


1016 And All That

by Cerdic519



Series: The New Anglo-Saxon Chronicles [5]
Category: Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - 11th Century, Anglo-Saxon, Destiel - Freeform, England (Country), London, M/M, Vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5602402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1016, and London is a city living on its nerves. The long and unhappy reign of King Æthelred II, which ended earlier this year, has hit the merchant business of Winchester & Henriksen hard, leading Castiel Newton, one of the few remaining clerks at their dockside offices, to begin hoarding his savings so he can leave. Now, with Danish rule looking inevitable after the late king's son suffered a defeat at Assandun, those escape plans are almost ready. </p><p>Except there is to be a last minute and rather attractive hitch.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Complication

November 1016: London, England  
   
The calendar said it was still autumn – November in the Christian one, although many Saxons still used the old terms, and ‘Bloodmonth’ seemed all too appropriate, as England struggled to escape from the shadow of King Æthelred’s long and useless reign. Castiel Newton shivered as he walked along the cold quayside, almost wishing he was at the warehouse, although he knew that would make him barely any warmer than he was now. Winchester and Henriksen was not known for splashing out on such luxuries as warmth for humble little clerks like him.  
   
At least the work would keep him warm, because there was enough of it. Although business had declined sharply during the late king's miserable reign, the company had cut back on the number of clerks even more sharply, and Castiel and his two colleagues would have plenty to do, making sure that the right deliveries went to the right people. Castiel knew he was lucky to have a job at all in the current economic climate; he had only gotten it because his great-grandmother had been a Winchester, and her daughter had secured Castiel a place at the firm on those grounds alone. Not that they could complain about his work; he was always on time, and being able to read at the tender age of twenty-eight made him infinitely more valuable. John Winchester had been reluctant to take on an omega, he knew, but he had his suppressant herbs and a sharp knife for any alpha or beta who got too close.  
   
Besides, Castiel had plans. He could see the way things were going in London, and after the late king’s son had suffered that disastrous defeat at Assandun last month, he knew it would only be a matter of time before all England fell under Danish rule. And that would mean Danish merchants flooding into London, either buying out or displacing firms like W&H. 

The writing had been on the wall three years ago, where the dire King Æthelred had been forced to flee by Swegn of Denmark. For reasons best known to themselves (stupidity was a fair bet, Castiel thought cattily), the English barons had welcomed their old ruler back when Swegn had died after only a few months, but the Viking's son Canute had got himself into a position to assert his own claim, and his victory last month made his succession all but certain. Castiel had spent those past few years quietly squirreling away every penny he could get, and last month he had purchased a small estate near the town of Nortone in Oxfordshire, nearly a hundred miles from the capital. It would be hard work making it pay, but it was all signed and sealed now, and by next month he would be off, hopefully never to see the grimy capital again. Everything was falling neatly into place.

He finally reached the warehouse, and sighed in relief. He turned the door sign to open, and settled into his accounts, looking forward to yet another humdrum day.  
   
Six minutes later, the bell over the door rang, and Castiel looked up to see... a god!  
   
+~+~+  
   
Lots of people came into the warehouse, and Castiel, as the clerk usually responsible for dealing with customers, considered himself a fairly good judge of character (or at least he knew when to reach for his knife. He knew immediately that this was not a customer. They tended to sidle into the warehouse almost as if they were embarrassed to be there, which given the fact that they usually came to plead for a delay in their bill, was understandable. This man looked.... hunted?  
   
The two owners were both alphas in their forties. Mr. Victor Henriksen was often away, dealing with other warehouse owners and making sure that they had enough stock, whilst Mr. John Winchester smooched local businessmen and kept the company’s small transport fleet in order. Mr. Henriksen had three sons, but they were all fairly young, so this had to be one of Mr. Winchester’s two sons, either the alpha or the beta. The alpha, judging from his scent.  
   
The man was about Castiel’s age, and solidly built with spiky, sandy hair and intense green eyes. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak there was the sound of someone else approaching from outside. The taller man's green eyes stared anxiously into Castiel's blue ones.  
   
“Hide me!”  
   
Castiel was surprised, but gestured to behind the counter, and the man ran round and crouched down there. Not a moment too soon, because the unmistakeable shadow of Mr. Winchester himself loomed outside the door just seconds later. For one horrible moment Castiel feared he might come in – he knew he couldn’t lie to save his life – but fortunately the man hesitated only briefly before keeping on going. Castiel waited a few moments before he spoke.

“Coast clear.”  
   
The alpha stood up, and he was clearly a couple of inches taller than Castiel. He looked the omega up and down appraisingly, then grinned.  
   
“How good are you at keeping a secret?”  
   
+~+~+  
   
All right. He had the boss’ son and heir – a very attractive son and heir, who for some reason was looking at him in a way which made Castiel think of his knife – holed up in his apartment, just seven days before he was due to leave the capital for good. If the man's father found out, he wouldn’t get paid next Friday, and he needed that money for the journey north. Otherwise it was a bloody long walk!  
   
“My dad wants me to get married”, his visitor explained, sipping a glass of water. “Lisa Braeden, heiress to B.L.K, one of the biggest warehouse companies in London. It would put our company right back into the top division again.”  
   
“I have seen Miss Braeden”, Castiel observed. “She is not unattractive. Is there some reason you do not wish her to be your wife?”  
   
To his surprise, Dean blushed.   
   
“I'm in love with someone else”, he muttered.

For some reason Castiel felt a pain in his stomach.

“Who?” he managed. Dean grinned.  
   
“You, baby.”

Castiel gulped.  
   
“Me?” It was not an unmanly squeak, but it wasn't far off from one.  
   
He stared at the man in shock. Castiel was a scruffy, undernourished, omega clerk whose ragamuffin appearance had rarely if ever drawn so much as a glance from an alpha or beta before. And now a stunningly handsome alpha who he’d met only hours before was propositioning him.  
   
“You”, Dean said flatly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
   
“But why?” Castiel said, confused. “I mean, you’re… well, you could have anybody.”  
   
“I don’t want anybody. I want you.”  
   
“But…”  
   
“I saw you weeks ago when I took that shipment down to Surrey”, Dean said. “You were stood there in that horrible coat, your hair all over the place, and I just knew it. I’ve been watching you ever since, and when I heard dad was trying to get me hitched, I knew I had to come and find you. Run away with me, Cas.”  
   
“I can’t.”

Dean looked hurt.  
   
“Don’t you like me?” he asked plaintively.  
   
Castiel hesitated. True, the man was gorgeous, and those green eyes…. Castiel could imagine himself getting lost in them so easily. He tried to shake off the image of those eyes staring up at him whilst on their bed in their Cotswold house, Dean,s knot tying them together....  
   
“What if your father finds you?” he hedged.  
   
“I’ve got a friend I can hide out with”, Dean said. “He lives near Wattamstede, a little way north of St. Albans, so….” he stopped. “What is it?”  
   
Castiel hesitated, then told him about his plans.  
   
“I’d be buying a cart, and driving it and my few worldly goods to my new house”, he said. “I could go via St. Albans. Give me a date, and I can pick you up; it would save you coming back to the capital again.”  
   
Dean was a big man, but he could move fast, for Castiel suddenly found himself being held very tenderly.  
   
“I knew you were as beautiful inside as out”, Dean whispered. “Let’s start on both our great escapes!”

1) Nortone, now Chipping Norton.  
2) Wattamstede, not Wheathampstead.


	2. The Journey, Part 1

November 1016  
   
The following week was extremely stressful for Castiel, as his secret departure inched ever closer, along with his flight to be with the owner’s son. He was positive that everyone knew about his plans, and even though he tried to focus on his work, every glance from his colleagues made him nervous. When Inias, one of the other clerks, came up silently behind him to ask him a question, he jumped two feet into the air, and took some time to stop shaking.   
   
Despite his faltering performance, all went well, and he was even told he would be receiving a small bonus with his pay on Friday because of a major delivery he had just overseen. Finally the great day came, and he could leave the warehouse for the last time and go home, ready for a good night’s sleep before the three-day journey to his new home.  
   
Except, of course, it didn’t quite work out like that. Because just as he was about to leave his desk for the last time, a tall shadow fell across it. he looked up and gulped.  
   
“Hullo, Mr. Newton.”  
   
He knew that voice. And he knew, from the expression on the man’s face, that he was in deep trouble.  
   
“Hullo, Mr. Winchester”, he said, trying not to tremble.  
   
+~+~+

“Mr. Newton.” If the man had been any taller, there would probably have been an eclipse of the sun.  
   
“We do not often see you round here”, Castiel said, desperately wanting to leave, but feeling he had to make some sort of conversation with the boss’ beta son.  
   
“Well, since Dean high-tailed it out of the city without so much as a goodbye note, my father expects me to do a lot more”, Samuel Winchester said dryly. “I don’t suppose you have seen him anywhere around, have you?”  
   
“A lowly clerk like me doesn’t normally get to see high-ups like you and Mr. Dean”, Castiel said evasively.  
   
The taller man’s eyes seemed to bore into him. Castiel gathered his papers into his bag and looked longingly at the door. If only he could end this conversation….  
   
“May I walk with you a little way, Mr. Newton?”  
   
Damn!  
   
“Of course”, Castiel said, managing a pained smile.  
   
Samuel Winchester held the door open for him, and they left the building.  
   
+~+~+  
   
“I think you know where my brother is.”  
   
The tall man was leaning on some railings by the river, not looking at the omega behind him. Castiel shivered, and it wasn’t just the November cold.  
   
“I don’t know where he is right now”, he said carefully.  
   
The beta turned to look at him.  
   
“I know he’s been infatuated with you ever since he saw you that time, Castiel”, he said quietly. He scratched the back of his neck, and Castiel was immediately reminded of Dean doing the same thing whilst they had talked. “A London life has never suited him, and I know he wants to get away. I think you feel much the same.”  
   
“I don’t….”  
   
“I know you’ve hired a cart for this weekend”, Samuel continued. “I know your lodgings are only paid up until tomorrow. I know you’ve some land somewhere out in the country, Mercia or the west country most likely, and that you’re probably planning to go there. And I’m only guessing the last part, but I think Dean wants to go with you.”  
   
Castiel hung his head.  
   
“Do you love him?”  
   
It was such an obvious question, and Castiel didn’t have to even think about the answer.  
   
“Yes!” he said at once, almost surprised at his own vehemence. Thankfully there was no-one nearby to hear him.  
   
“Then let me help you. I can go with you, at least until you meet him. I suppose you’re meeting him away from London?”  
   
“St Albans”, Castiel said before he could stop himself. “In the square tomorrow afternoon. Then we’ll go to his friend’s house – I told him not to give me the address, just in case – and we’ll head out the next day.”  
   
“A man riding on their own is just asking for trouble”, Sam said. “I’ll ride with you that far, and I can say my goodbyes to him. I know this is what he wants, more than being a warehouse owner. And Dad will probably accept it if I stay on, and take his place.”  
   
“Is that what you want, Mr. Winchester?”  
   
The tall man smiled.  
   
“Dean’s done everything for me in my life so far”, he said. “He deserves his own slice of happiness. I think you are the one to give him that. I know where you live, so I will be there at eight tomorrow, all right?”  
   
“Thank you, Sam”, Castiel smiled. “For everything.”  
   
The chestnut-haired giant smiled at him, and went on his way.  
   
+~+~+  
   
December 1016  
   
Bad news travels fast, as the old saying goes. It had supposedly only happened yesterday, but before a final peace deal between King Edmund and the Danish Canute could be put into action, the Saxon king had been murdered, almost certainly on the orders of the Dane. Even at eight o’clock in the morning the capital was agog with the development, and Castiel was glad of the tall presence riding alongside him as he drove carefully out of the capital and along the old Roman road that led all the way to the turbulent Welsh border.   
   
The journey as far as St. Albans proved mercifully uneventful, and they rolled into the town, built opposite an old Roman city across the River Ver, not long after midday. Castiel was overjoyed that one of the first sights he saw was Dean, sitting on a bench outside the tavern in the town square. Dean looked surprised and not a little suspicious at seeing his brother, but Sam swiftly explained everything, and the two were soon clapping each other on the back and trying (but failing) not to be emotional about it. Sam wished them Godspeed, and set off back to the capital. Dean stared after him almost wistfully.  
   
“Regretting it?” Castiel ventured.  
   
Dean turned and smiled at him, a full beam that made Castiel feel as if the sun had suddenly come out from behind the clouds.  
   
“Never!” he said firmly. “But Sammy’s been part of my life for as long as I can remember. It seems funny to think I may never see him again.”  
   
“Perhaps he might come up and visit?” Castiel suggested.  
   
“Perhaps”, Dean grinned, as he clicked on the reins and started them on their way out of the town.  
   
+~+~+

They spent the night at Dean's friend Victor's house, and returned through St. Albans to head west across the Chiltern Hills. The day passed in companionable silence, though Castiel felt warmed every time Dean nestled against him as they trundled on.  
   
“You know that I love you, Cas?”  
   
They were lying in bed together, in a small barn somewhere near Berchamstede. Dean ruffled the omega's untidy bird’s nest of hair, and Castiel looked up at him.  
   
“I love you too, Dean. I just hope….” he trailed off.  
   
“What?” Dean asked.  
   
“Your father may try to send someone after us. He didn’t get where he was today by just accepting things as they are. What if he tries to hunt you down?”  
   
“Sam will put him off, hopefully”, Dean said. “He’s all dad has left now; if he walks, there’ll be no more Winchesters, full stop. That should be enough to deter him.”  
   
Castiel could hear the doubt in his voice, but chose not to say anything.  
   
“I think we might make Oxenford tomorrow”, he said instead. “Four days instead of the three I hoped for, but never mind. That’s most of the way there, but the road to Nortone is a poor one, so our progress will be a lot slower.”  
   
“I don’t mind taking longer”, Dean teased, stroking the stubbled jaw beneath the impossible hair. “I’m sure I can think of some way to pass the December nights, gorgeous!”  
   
Castiel blushed.  
   
“You call me that, and I’m so not”, he insisted.  
   
Dean pulled him up until he was lying right next to him.  
   
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to set out and prove how wrong you are!” he teased, and started slowly kissing his way along the smaller man's jaw and down his chest.

Castiel moaned. Apparently Dean Winchester could be very persuasive.....

 

1\. Berchamstede, now Berkhamsted.  
2\. Oxenford, now Oxford.


	3. The Journey, Part 2

December 1016  
   
They made good progress the next day, and Castiel's only complaint was that he was still sore from the night before – Dean had proven very committed to proving just how attractive he found the smaller man – and the road was decidedly bumpy in parts. Though bearing in mind it had been only patchily repaired for the last seven centuries or so, that really wasn't surprising.

“I wonder why they left?” Dean mused, as they sat outside a tavern in the town of Tame. “I mean, they lasted for nearly four centuries over here, and they still control a large area around the Midland Sea.”

“The western empire fell because its enemies were more united and better organized than they were, and one of their last emperors stabbed his best general because he got jealous of him”, Castiel explained, munching on a piece of bread.

Dean stared at him silently.

“What?” Castiel asked, puzzled. 

“Beautiful and knowledgeable”, Dean grinned. “Any other talents you haven't shown me yet?”

Castiel grinned at him, then leant forward and whispered something in the taller man's ear. Dean flushed bright red.

“You're that flexible?” he demanded.

Castiel laughed.

“You'll find out tonight!” he promised.

+~+~+

They were late leaving the tavern in Oxenford the following morning. And unusually Dean let Castiel drive first, because he desperately needed to lie down a bit longer.

+~+~+

The road from Oxenford was poor, and they passed slowly through Wodestoch and Henstane before reaching their destination Nortone. Castiel's new estate lay just north of the town, on the top of a gentle hill that ran down to the Warwickshire border, and they rolled into it tired and exhausted just as the sun was setting. Both wanted nothing more than a wash and bed, but Castiel's steward, a man called Garth, was waiting for them.

“You have a visitor”, he said, looking slightly worried. “He came earlier today, and didn't want to miss you, so said he'd wait. He's been here for six hours, so it must be important.” He hesitated before adding, “I gave him food and drink, as he seemed determined to stay.”

“Thank you, Garth”, Castiel smiled. “I had better attend to him right away.”

“Shall I come with you?” Dean asked.

“Always!” Castiel smiled back, placing his hand in the alpha's larger one. He led the man through to the main room, and their visitor.

+~+~+

The visitor was a short beta, almost corpulent, with thinning dark hair and an unpleasant expression on his face. He looked at the two in surprise as they entered.

“We,, I didn't think it would be this easy”, he said. “Gordon Walker, at your service. Or in this case, the service of your father, Mr. Winchester.” He yawned. “The two of you certainly took your time getting here.”

He moved to one side, and both men could see what was clearly a crossbow set up at the table, pointing at them. 

“Here's how it's going to go”, Mr Walker said unpleasantly. “You, Castiel are going to use that rope over there to bind your friend's hands so tight that he can't move. Then I'm going to take Mr. Winchester out to my spare horse, and he's coming back to the city with me, where his father will be paying out a nice fat reward.”

“No!” Castiel said sharply. 

“I will shoot you first, if you don't”, the man said, yawning again. “If only for making me wait all this time. My time is money, and I don't want to waste it. Get a move on!”

Castiel looked desperately at Dean, but reluctantly moved to pick up the rope.

“There's a good boy!” the man sneered. 

Castiel gritted his teeth, but concentrated on tying the knots as slowly as possible. He was so focussed on his task that the sound of a loud crash from across the room startled him. He looked up, to find their captor lying on the ground.

“Dean! What did you do?”

The taller man stared at him in astonishment.

“Nothing. I thought you did something!”

Castiel was frantically untying the knots when Garth re-entered the room.

“Oh good”, he said. “It worked, then.”

They both stared at him in confusion.

“What worked?” Castiel asked.

“I went out to the well earlier, and looked through the window to see him setting up that contraption”, Garth explained, carefully dismantling the crossbow. “I knew he was up to no good, so I drugged his ale. I'm sorry it didn't work before you got here, though.”

“Don't apologize!” Castiel insisted. “If it wasn't for you, we'd have lost each other before we even started.”

“What are we going to do with Snoring Beauty over there, though?” Dean asked.

“There's a market in Northamton, where the Viking traders buy slaves for abroad”, Garth suggested. “It's the day after tomorrow. I'm sure he would love a sea voyage!”

“I'm sure you would love a raise!” Castiel smiled. “Because you're going to get one!”

+~+~+

“You don't think he told dad where I went, do you?”

They were lying in bed the following morning – well, afternoon; they'd meant to get up early but things had just happened. Castiel cuddled closer to his mate.

“People like him never divulge information unless it's in their interests, and he's have been afraid your dad would just come here himself”, he said. “No, we're safe now. The only thing you should be afraid of is that I might tire you out before you reach thirty....”

Dean promptly rolled him over and used his body to pin the smaller man down onto the bed.

“I'm an alpha male, and I can keep going all night if I need to!” he boasted. The next instant he leapt off the bed with what was most definitely not a girly shriek, when Castiel tickled him.

“Why, you sneaky little....”

Castiel was somehow out of the bed and on the other side of it before Dean could reach him, grinning at his mate. Dean tried to reach across to him, but he remained tantalizingly just out of reach.

+~+~+

In the next room, their steward smiled to himself as he heard the shouts and thuds through the walls, and carried on filing the paperwork. It looked like he would be doing it by himself for a while yet......

 

1) Tame, now Thame.  
2) Wodestoch, now Woodstock.  
3) Henstane, now Enstone.


End file.
